


maitresse d'école

by Eiprej



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, i cant believe this, teacher!au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 01:42:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5356235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eiprej/pseuds/Eiprej
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When she gets to Blackwell and makes herself at home, scouring the halls to claim her territory, she makes her first stop Jefferson's classroom. </p>
<p>It's better to be a step ahead of the competition, anyways, and to do that Victoria knows you have to set a name for yourself as quickly as possible. Victoria needs to make herself as unforgettable as she can by introducing herself to him first. Make it known that she's going to be his star pupil, his number one--</p>
<p>And then she opens the door, and sees someone who is most definitely not Mark Jefferson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	maitresse d'école

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I wrote this, i am sinning on a whole new level  
> I don't plan for this to be more than two chapters, but it felt pretty weird having to cram everything in one go so I just decided to run with this. :') A twoshot, maybe a three piece fic, but since I've got my hands full working on other projects, it won't be much longer than that!  
> Really heavily influenced by [sunnjays](http://sunnjays.tumblr.com/) really glorious [art](http://sunnjays.tumblr.com/post/133192635532/victoria-and-ms-caulfield-are-definitely-having) for teacher!AU, and wow I'm just really weak for teacher Max...

There was always little reason for Victoria Chase to come to Arcadia Bay, a location so far removed from the forced glamour and spontaneity of Seattle. A place like Arcadia Bay is dubbed as a "total fucking joke," in her own words, shared with friends who wore perfume as heavily as she did, flaunting their own gold necklaces. 

And then she'd found out Mark Jefferson was going to teach there. There was no way she could pass up an opportunity like that, not while applications were open and she had a portfolio of images just waiting for this moment. It's as easy as applying, as penning her name down and writing a few bullshit essays to go along with her stellar photographs.

( It's also as easy as talking to Nathan over the phone. She knows his parents practically own that shithole. She knows he's getting in too, though she doesn't want to think about whether or not that's due to his own talent or the forces behind the application process. She doesn't want to know if that applies to her as well. )

And then she's in. She goes from holding the acceptance letter in her hands to packing her bags in the span of a few months that feel far too long, that feel like years instead, with how desperate she is to get the hell out of there.

It's not as if her parents care enough to give her more than a lackluster "congratulations", so she doubts they want her there as much as she wants to be there.

When she gets to Blackwell and makes herself at home, scouring the halls to claim her territory, she makes her first stop Jefferson's classroom. That's the only reason she's here in the first place; it would be an utter joke to think of stopping elsewhere. Nothing else is as remotely important as this.

It's better to be a step ahead of the competition, anyways, and to do that Victoria knows you have to set a name for yourself as quickly as possible. Victoria needs to make herself as unforgettable as she can by introducing herself to him first. Make it known that she's going to be his star pupil, his number one--

And then she opens the door, and sees someone who is most definitely _not_ Mark Jefferson.

"What the fuck?" That's not the most appropriate response that could have come from her mouth, not the most eloquent in the least. Still, absolutely _nothing_ else seems fit to replace that statement, that exclamation of shock when she sees whatever mess is standing at the front of the classroom, writing on the board with an expo marker. That's not Mark Jefferson.

Mark Jefferson is not a woman with thickly rimmed glasses and side swept brunette hair. He's also not that _young,_ either, and Victoria knows that for a fact. Jefferson might look the part, but he doesn't fit the bill of twenty-something that easily. The aformentioned woman turns her head at the sound of Victoria, blinking at her with too wide eyes and-- god, how can one person have so many freckles? "Huh? I mean, uh, excuse me?"

Victoria purses her lips, regaining her composure and pressing a hand against her hip. Whoever this lackluster specimen was, Victoria could already tell -- disappointingly -- that she was of higher status than her. Only a teacher would be in here so early. That, or someone Victoria should consider competition, but she seriously doubts this is a student.

"Where's Mr.Jefferson?" Victoria doesn't falter, demanding, and the unknown teacher's eyes widen, lips dipping into a frown.

"Oh, you must be one of my students." She says instead, completely deflecting Victoria's question. The blonde's irritation skyrockets, and she inhales once to quell it. There's no use in letting her temper get in the way of her interrogation, even if the victim is going to be a little prick about it by refusing to answer her.

"One of _your_ students? You have to be mistaken. I'm one of Jefferson's--"

"Sorry, that's the truth." She cuts her off, and Victoria has to bite her tongue hard in response, lips curling into a scowl. The woman flashes her a sympathetic smile, which makes it _worse_. Victoria isn't here for some nameless teacher's pity. She sets down the marker and leans against the desk, clearing her throat a little. "Jefferson isn't exactly available anymore, so I'm filling in for him."

Victoria's stomach drops at the information, wondering if this is how it feels to have the carpet yanked out from underneath your feet, to have come so far only to come barreling into nothing. The sense of disappointment is nearly crushing, and Victoria has to ground herself by crossing her arms, digging her fingers against her skin. "Okay," She says very thinly, feeling as if she has to grind the words out between her teeth. "Then who are you?"

She runs her gaze over Victoria, almost knowingly, and then scratches at the back of her head, shrugging. "Well, _you're_ supposed to call me Ms.Caulfield."

Victoria freezes. Caulfield. Caulfield? "No way," She fumbles for a split second, and then tilts her chin up. "As in Maxine Caulfield?"

Ms.Caulfield laughs bashfully. "It's actually just Max. I guess not really for you, though. But yes."

Victoria Chase suddenly feels as if she's hit the jackpot, in the timespan of about two minutes. It's a little jarring, really, to be given such glorious information just moments after discovering one of her favorite photographers has been docked, in place of another.

Jesus Christ. When she applied for Blackwell Academy, she didn't sign up for this nonsense at all. If she'd wanted a play by play of all the possible twists of her expectations, she would have just stayed at home.

Sucking in a little breath, she drags her eyes over Max's form, tapping her fingers against her arm as she tries to work out just how to feel about the photographer in front of her. _This_ is Max Caulfield? It's unbelievable, so much more lackluster than she expected-- but there's no reason for her to lie. It's just hard to believe that someone who looked so plain could capture such beauty with their camera.

This is no Mark Jefferson, but in a sense, this might just be better. If this is really _the_ Max Caulfield, Victoria might have hit an even bigger goldmine, if this first meeting didn't totally fucking blow it. Maxine is no amatuer photographer, and Victoria admits she's seen a few photographs with the ability to take her breath away.

Victoria's mind works to amend how unbearably badly she'd fucked this first meeting up, and she squeezes her arm and then drops them to her sides. "Sorry. I wasn't exactly expecting to see you, even though I love your work--"

Max lifts her hand, waving Victoria off with a smile that goes a little awkward. "That's fine, seriously. I know I'm not much to look at, and if I were in your position, I'd be pretty disappointed too."

"I'm not disappointed _now._ " Victoria manages to slide in, hoping it works. It isn't exactly a lie.

Max tilts her head at Victoria, eyes shining with amusement behind her glasses. "Forgive me if I have a hard time believing that, um..." She pauses, seeming at a loss for words.

"Victoria Chase." She supplies quickly, and Max ducks her head gratefully at her.

"Victoria." Max finishes, smiling again, right at her. It makes something stir uncomfortably in her stomach. She tries to ignore it, turning her head away and huffing softly.

"I suppose I should go, then."

"If you want. I wouldn't really mind any company." Max gestures vaguely to the tables stacked with boxes, and the empty chairs pushed into them.  She turns back to the board. "It does get kind of boring."

Victoria considers it, she really does. This is her chance to take advantage, to get ahead and get to know the prestigious Maxine Caulfield before any other poor excuse for an amateur photographer does.

"Unless you're planning to introduce yourself to your other teachers. I wouldn't want to keep you." Max continues, throwing a look over her shoulder and looking at Victoria over her glasses. Her tone is distinctly different from before; there's something playful there, and Victoria holds her breath.

"No, I doubt they'll be even remotely as interesting as you." Victoria allows a smirk to slip on her face, and from her spot she sees Max's marker slip up on a letter, dragging a line down the board. Max manages something like a laugh, clearly surprised, and ducks her head again.

"Don't act as if you weren't incredibly disappointed only a few minutes ago, Miss Chase."

"Things change," Victoria offers, and Max hums in response, shaking her head and erasing the mistake on the board with her thumb.

"If that's the case, then I wouldn't mind some help setting up, either."

Victoria looks behind her at the door, and then at Max's back. Work? That's not something someone like her should be volunteering for, but after the initial bumpiness, there's something so casual about Max's behavior that convinces her to stay.

Victoria heaves a sigh, and paces closer to Max. "I don't have anything better to do, so I guess I can lend a hand."

Max grins a little, and Victoria swears that shouldn't look so good on a  _teacher_ _._ God. "Thank god. I would have been here all day." She pauses, thinking, and then looks back at Victoria. "Do you live on campus?"

The question is so direct Victoria has to stop for a second herself, furrowing her brows. Max seems to catch onto it, chuckling a little sheepishly and tucking her hair behind her ear. Victoria notices just then that the freckles from her face extend past her neck, disappearing underneath her white shirt. It makes it slightly more difficult to focus on answering. "I meant..."

"I do," Victoria answers quickly, before she can take it back. "Why?"

Max perks up once more, and then jerks a finger to the boxes sitting on the tables. "Good, because we have a lot of work to do. I hope you're prepared."

Victoria almost regrets her decision at that, not answering immediately. Max seems to notice, and she softens up a little. "Or you could go."

Victoria definitely regrets her decision, just then. Now she understands why she feels so hot underneath the collar of her shirt. It's difficult not to, when those dumb smiles make something itch and burn at her insides.

Ms.Caulfield is really, really fucking attractive.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr is [here!](http://chloepricewithgun.tumblr.com)


End file.
